Of Butterbeer and French Girls
by Perfect Mischief
Summary: Fred and George make a bet to see who can pick up Madam Rosmerta's French niece first. Cheesy pick up lines abound somewhat . R&R? Yes?


Fred laughed as he downed another butterbeer, grabbing the next full glass in front of him and bringing it to his lips. The problem with going to a place like the Three Broomsticks was that it always motivated him to drink. Not that he minded much. The only downside was it usually ended with either him or George carrying the other out, after being asked to leave by Madam Rosmerta. But today, Fred (and most certainly George, if Fred knew his brother at all- which he most certainly did) had a motivation to stay away from heavy drinking. You see, Madam Rosmerta's niece was working the bar today, as Madam Rosmerta had been called to business somewhere in London, regarding a malfunctioning broom, a goblin, and a pair of glittery pumps. Fred wasn't entirely sure what could have happened, but the bottle blond barkeep hadn't gone into detail, and with a woman like Madam Rosmerta, it's best to stay on her good side.

In any event, the petite niece of Rosmerta was the epitome of cute, with her wayward blond curls and heavy French accent. She was a couple of years older than Fred and George, perhaps around twenty-five at the most. Her smile was demure, and her nimble fingers served drinks faster than Madam Rosmerta these days.

As soon as Fred saw her, he immediately glanced at George. George seemed to be having similar thoughts, for less than a second later; he was looking at Fred in a manner akin to his own. Fred cracked a smile.

"Why, my dear brother, it appears we both have our eyes on the enticing Cecile," Fred mused, raising an eyebrow humorously.

"I would have said ravishing, but otherwise, I do believe you're correct, dear Fred," replied George with a toothy grin.

"Well then, George, perhaps we'd best make a little game of it. Whoever doesn't pick her up has to pay. Agreed?" Fred smirked at his twin.

"Fine by me, mate." They shook on it quickly, having done the practice on many occasions. "But let's be honest, Fred," George began in a mock-serious tone, and Fred lazily turned to look at him. "The chances she'll choose you over me are as likely as the chances that Ginny and Malfoy would go on a date." They both broke out laughing, causing a slightly peeved Cecile to shoot them a curious glance before going back to wiping a mug with a dirty rag. There was only one flaw to his statement- if either twin had known their only sister's current whereabouts, perhaps George would have chosen his words a bit differently. That could only be a bad omen.

"Well then, mate," Fred quipped. "Let the games begin!"

"Now that's what I like to hear."

"Of course. Until I win. Oh, Mademoiselle Cecile!" Fred called to the woman who was currently pouring firewhiskey into a glass. She gave him a little nod, and then turned back to the customer whose cheek was flat against the wood of the bar, as she daintily pushed the glass towards him. Fred continued to wave obnoxiously at her, until she had no choice but to walk to the other side of the bar, one of her clear eyebrows raised in annoyance.

"What is it, Meester Weasley?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just that, my brother and I were hoping for a couple more butterbeers, if you please?" Fred replied smoothly.

"I'm 'appy to oblige," she said in a forced tone, a pretty yet fake smile hardening her mouth.

Fred smiled kindly at her and watched as she (and her very nice rear end) went back to the other side of the bar to entertain other customers. He continued to watch her as she poured more drinks and went back to wiping another mug for a bit.

"Oh, yes, you're watching her now, but just wait 'til she gets back here," taunted George with a mischievous grin.

But Fred continued to smile and drank from his full glass of butterbeer.

A few moments later, the lovely French woman was back before them.

"'Ere is your butterbeer, monsieur," she said, handing over the libation, still with the same phony smile as before. Fred had to admit, she was not much of an actress, and she obviously didn't seem to care for either Weasley twin.

"Oh, excuse me, Cecile," George exclaimed with a smirk. "But I was just a bit curious." Cecile eyed him warily before giving a slight nod. "Are you using the Confundus charm or are you just naturally mind blowing?" Fred chugged butterbeer to fight his laughter, causing him to nearly choke.

Cecile rolled her eyes. "Pardon me, Meester Weasley-"

"Please, call me George."

"George, I am trying to work 'ard for my auntie, no? So I beg you stop playing games." She frowned slightly.

"Oh, I apologize, sweet Cecile," George said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

She giggled despite herself. "You are a funny man, George. But steel very annoying."

As she retreated once again, Fred couldn't help his laughter this time.

"Admit it, you've lost your touch? Confundus charm? Are you trying to get a date with her or St. Mungo's?"

"Oh, come off it, mate!" George said through his chuckles. "Let's see you do better, then."

"Gladly. Cecile!" he yelled once again.

A frazzled Cecile ran her fingers through her hair before scurrying to the end she had begun to call in her mind, "La zone à problème."

"What is it, George's brother?" she asked, tired.

"It's Fred by the way. So, the weather's nice today," he joked, motioning with his head towards the window, where rain splashed merrily and streaked down the glass. Cecile gave a small smile. "At least we've got some sunshine in here."

"What do you mean, sunshine?" she inquired, confused.

"Why, you're all the sunshine we need, brightening up this old place," Fred added, smiling at her. He glanced at George, who was rolling his eyes, a smirk in place.

Cecile's smile widened momentarily. Then, with a quick shake of her head, she went back into professional mode. "Zat is very kind, Fred, but I must get back to work." Her cheeks tinged with pink, and she hastily spun on her heel and went over to the taps to fill more glasses.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" George said, laughter evident in his voice.

"If you had any common sense, you would be!" Fred said, laughing to himself.

"If you knew me at all, you'd know I don't have any!" George jibed merrily.

"Trust me, mate, I knew that." They chortled to themselves, making quite a scene, until a hag nearby gave them a menacing glare and an ominous shake of her head. Sniggering, Fred gulped down some more butterbeer, hoping to finish up this glass so he could have another excuse to talk to Cecile.

Much later (to the misfortune of a certain French girl), Fred and George decided they had had their fun. Neither of them had been able to get the girl, even after many attempts and pick up lines, the worst of which including, "If you were a Dementor, I'd break the law just to get your kiss," and the like. They'd ended up splitting the bill evenly, as neither had succeeded. Perhaps Fred was just being cocky (he wouldn't have been surprised) but he was fairly confident that Cecile had preferred his less subtle approach to George's more forward attempts. (Did George really think "Interested in making some magic together? My wand is at the ready," was going to interest her? In any case, she didn't seem to understand the innuendo anyways.) Exiting the bar, an idea struck Fred right between the eyes. He grinned.

"George, wait a second, I left my cloak in there," he fibbed.

"But Fred, you're wearing your-" George was cut off by the sound of the door swinging shut.

Fred rushed towards the bar.

"Oh, Cecilllllllle!" he sing-songed as the girl in question put down the mug she was cleansing.

"What is it, Meester Weasley?"

"How would you like to go get some coffee sometime?"

Cecile smiled. "Zat would be nice."

"How's Saturday sound?"

"Perfect. Have a nice day, Fred!"

Fred smiled as he left the Three Broomsticks for the second time that evening.

George put his palms up in confusion. "What was that about?"

"I've got a date with a French girl. You owe me half the bill."

**A/N Written for the Review Tag on the DG Forum!**

The prompt:

**Characters:** Fred and George

**Setting:** The Three Broomsticks

**Must Include:** At least one (preferably corny) pick up line

So... please review?

Oh, and the French line, "La zone à problème," means "the problem area."


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